


Beyond

by professor



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Dynamics, Telepathic Sex, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professor/pseuds/professor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik trusts Charles to give him what he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wagnetic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wagnetic/gifts).



> Dear Wagnetic, I hope you like the gift!

Erik is trembling. 

He doesn’t know why. He has plenty of reasons to be trembling, but he can’t point to any specific event, _tonight_ , that may have set him off. 

It happens, sometimes. There are nights when Erik simply can’t stop _thinking_ and _feeling_ and _remembering_. His mind vibrates with fear, rage, and despair. His body is strung taut like a bow, like the weapon he knows himself to be, despite the years -- decades -- that have passed. Every little noise, little creak and movement in the mostly silent mansion spikes his awareness. He’s a live wire of tension, and the only thing he can do is endure. 

~*~

“Is there anything I can do to help?” asks Charles, quietly, the next morning, the only acknowledgement he offers.

Erik is about to offer an automatic denial when he pauses. Erik would never even have considered this before, but, it’s Charles. Charles, who from the very first, rescued him from drowning in the ocean, drowning in his own loneliness. Charles, who guards his secrets and who has proven over and over to be trustworthy. Charles, who would never hurt him. 

Maybe Charles can save him from this, as well.

~*~

It’s an awkward conversation, to be sure. But Charles has made it clear from the first, that negotiations of this nature must happen verbally. It’s too easy for Charles to misinterpret things he sees with his telepathy, and he won’t risk it with so much at stake.

“Tell me what you need,” says Charles. 

“I want -- to not _think_. I want -- to be so out of my mind that I can only focus on the here and the now,” says Erik.

They work out more details, and seal the agreement with a kiss.

~*~

Erik struggles, at first. He’d expected that he would -- it’s not in his nature to accept things. But he doesn’t use his safewords.

“Mmmmmm,” says Charles, staring down at his handiwork. “You look so lovely like this. Of course I could do this without … props, but there’s something to be said for traditional methods.” Charles trails his fingers along the silk ropes binding Erik’s wrists to the headboard above his head. Matching ropes bind his ankles to the bedposts, his legs spread wide, leaving him exposed and vulnerable to whatever Charles wishes to do with him. But of course that’s the point.

Charles leans down and kisses Erik on the mouth, slowly, sweetly. He gently coaxes Erik’s mouth open, and Erik responds to Charles’ hot, drugging kisses by letting his eyes flutter shut and allowing Charles to have his way with him. 

“Open your eyes, darling,” says Charles after a few minutes. “You won’t want to miss this.” Erik obeys and Charles lifts his hand up so Erik can see what Charles is holding. It’s a feather. 

Erik’s brow furrows. He doesn’t see how something that delicate can have any effect on him.

Charles smirks, as he surely caught that thought. “We’ll just see about that, now won’t we, darling.” 

A short time later, Erik is deeply regretting that thought. Charles has blindfolded Erik, and has been touching Erik with the feather in a way that is absolutely maddening, light touches and strokes in patterns over Erik’s most sensitive spots. Many of which Erik hadn’t even _known_ were sensitive, until Charles had worked his magic. 

Erik suspects something about being blindfolded, or possibly Charles’ telepathy, is heightening the sensations, but it all feels so good he doesn’t care.

Currently Charles is tracing Erik’s instep with the feather, and Erik is trying to move his foot away with limited success, given the ropes restraining his ankles. Charles follows this up by licking up the exact same path he’d trailed the feather, and then blowing over the trail of wetness, causing Erik to shiver. 

“Oh, you _like_ that,” says Charles delightedly, and repeats the process on Erik’s other foot. 

Charles slowly works his way back up Erik’s body, deliberately neglecting Erik’s cock (and oh how Erik _hates_ him for that, or would if he weren’t so distracted), and spends quite a bit of time tormenting Erik’s nipples. Erik writhes in his bonds, not sure if he’s trying to get away from, or get more of, the feather circling his aroused nipples. Erik moans as Charles alternates the feather with licks and sucks, pinches and bites -- the contrast between sensations is _exquisite_. 

“Please,” gasps out Erik. “Please, _please_ ,” Erik begs, though he has no idea what he’s begging Charles for.

Charles works Erik up to a fever pitch, and then pulls away. Erik cries out from the loss. 

“Now, now, be good, or I’ll leave you here like this all night,” threatens Charles, and Erik shuts up, and tries to wait patiently. 

He hears Charles fiddling with something, but can’t tell what, at least until he feels Charles’ cool, slick fingers prepping him. Charles takes his time prepping Erik, and in the meantime torments Erik with touches and kisses and bites, and Erik swears he can feel multiple hands and mouths and tongues on him and he’s just _lost_.

And then Charles is sliding into him, and Erik welcomes the feeling of being filled, of being _full_ , and Charles starts fucking him with abandon and Erik moans and whimpers as he takes everything Charles is giving him.

Erik knows, on some level, that Charles _has_ to be doing something with his telepathy, either stealing time from Erik until Charles’ refractory period has ended, or simply feeding Erik the illusion being fucked -- but the end result is the same. Charles (seemingly) fucks Erik _constantly_ , coming again and again inside of Erik, and never allowing Erik to come himself. 

Erik’s cock is hard, _aching_ , slick with precome. Erik sobs when he feels a phantom of Charles’ mouth sucking his cock. The dual sensations of being fucked and sucked simultaneously would push Erik over the edge, if only Charles would let him come.

“Charles, Charles, _please_ ,” Erik begs, as tears soak into the blindfold and stream down his cheeks. “Please let me come, please, _please_ , I’ll do anything you want just please let me come --”

But Charles just keeps thrusting into him again and again and again and again, and Erik keeps begging until he is beyond words, beyond sound, beyond _thought_ \--

And then, at last --

_bliss_ , as he’s finally allowed to come.

Erik feels as though he’s floating, untethered, surrounded by nothing but warmth and ecstasy and _Charles_.

He never wants it to end.

~*~

Erik wakes, warm and boneless and content, free from his bonds and with Charles curled up by his side. The bright morning sun streams in the windows and Erik can hear birds singing just outside. 

The peace he feels is an illusion, he knows. It will shatter soon enough.

But for now, Erik smiles, and pulls Charles closer. The world can wait.


End file.
